


Worth Something

by Seagoatink



Series: Obscene Obscure Omnipotent [3]
Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Friendship, Genderfluid Character, Personal Growth, Trauma, Validation, animal death mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 10:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10718031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: “I’m too broken to save people.”“You’ve already saved people,” Sam pointed out. It was good that Olive did not dump the idea into the trashcan outright. Her argument gave him an opening to coax her with the option. A little dance from pessimism to reality.





	Worth Something

Too impatient with herself and everything else, Olive ditched her wheelchair as she roamed Stark Tower. There was no where to go and not much to do. From time to time, she acted as lone moderator for Tony’s words on his social media, like Twitter. The only time she had to leave was to make statements on the behalf of Stark Industries when Tony or Pepper were busy. 

She scanned a copy of her letters to her great-grandpa before sealing the originals in an envelope. Olive limped along the hallways, sticking stamps to the top corner before finally stepping into the elevator to descend to the main floor. 

From the elevator she crossed the floor of the main level easily, considering it was fairly open and lacking walls in most areas. Most noticeable were the pillars in the entryway. Her knees ached with every step on the stone flooring and even if she had worn shoes and socks, she knew nothing could lessen the pressure on her still healing joints.

Olive entered the mail room, one of the few walled off areas. She propped herself up on the table and waited for the mail man. If her memory served her right, his name was Leon.

Sam slipped into the room and leaned against the table. He had his own house and mailing address, so it was obvious he was not waiting on Leon like Olive was. “You wanted to be a Marine, huh?” He casually dropped the question. His hands were idle and he was not fidgeting at all. Olive found herself hit with a touch of jealousy.

“Yeah,” the young woman replied softly. She was almost in a dreamlike trance as she remembered inviting the recruiter into her home while her dad and stepmom were out of town. Her stepsister was almost always gone and at a friend’s house or partying. Olive could not remember where her brother was, but he was likely either living with a friend or in juvie at the time. “I scored an 89 on the ASVAB when I was at technical school.”

The man nodded, his body swaying back and forth with the motion. “You seemed like Coast Guard to me,” he informed her. Sam stole a glance in her direction.

“Military family,” she admitted with a shrug. Olive kicked her legs against the air nervously. “Mostly Air Force and Air Guard.”

“Mhm,” Sam hummed in reply. “What did you do at tech school?”

“Art Communications and Design. Long title. But it was a two year certificate.” Olive sighed. Her eyes fell to her kicking feet then up to her knees, healing but stained a sickly yellow. The kicking still hurt, but it helped loosen up the joints to ensure a more comfortable healing process.

Sam grinned over at her. “Did you get any writing in there or were you good at that before hand?”

“Oh after all that schooling. I was a terrible author. I couldn’t even read the title of my old works. I hardly want to claim that shit as mine,” Olive giggled and flashed him a toothy smile. 

He chuckled and returned her toothy smile with a grin. “What’s got you patiently waiting for the mailman?”

Sam did not think it was possible for her smile to get any bigger, but there it was taking over her face the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man in Ghostbusters. “I’m supposed to be getting a letter from my grandparents. They said they’d send pictures of my niece!” Olive exclaimed ecstatically. “She’s a lil redheaded fireball,” she said and suddenly her cheerful expression fell to something more somber. “I’m a bit worried about her.”

Before Sam could question the statement, Leon entered the mail room. All three exchanged smiles and waves. “You’re looking a bit better,” Leon said, but continued on to the mailboxes.

“Thanks,” Olive replied. “Oh, uh, I didn’t put this in the box, but it needs to go out!” The woman hopped off the table, immediately regretting her choice as her knees ached in protest. Then she hobbled forward and handed Leon her letter to her great-grandfather. “I don’t mean to mix you up or anything, but is there any mail for me?”

“Are any of these the one you were looking for?” Leon asked and extended a hand to her. He held three different letters each from different people.

Olive gratefully took them. “Thanks!” She said before sifting through the small stack. “Oh yes! Thanks so much, Leon! Wait, that’s your name, right?”

“Yeah,” the mailman replied with a grin.

She had never seen anyone else come down to greet Leon, so Olive assumed she was the only one in the tower to bother getting to know him and learn his name. “I hope you have a nice day!”

“Oh, I hope so too. Thanks, Livy.”

Sam followed her out of the mail room. “Mind some company?” He figured he was best off asking before continuing to follow her elsewhere.

Olive shrugged. “Whatever your heart desires. I’m not gonna stop you,” she replied with the wave of her hand. Then she headed back across the open entryway to the elevators.

Without warning, she stopped in her tracks. Sam glanced back at her. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering she shook her head. “No, it’s… It’s just… It’s Mother,” grumbled Olive without looking up at him. If Sam did not know any better, he would say Olive was probably crying. She was in all honestly, but he knew better than to point it out. “Stupid bitch,” mumbled Olive. A bubble formed between her lips from the excess spit in her mouth.

The elevator doors opened up. Sam hesitantly stepped in. “You sure you want company still?” He asked, wanting to be certain without further invading her private life.

“I don’t know if you like deviled eggs or not, but I made some. I don’t like deviled eggs at all, so if you like them it’d help me avoid that smell that only eggs have,” Olive said.

Her eyes were suddenly sunken and her body language read downtrodden. Something about her gave off the look of a kicked puppy. Still, Sam entered the elevator. If he was not joining her out of curiosity, then he decided he was going to be there for her as a friend. “Do you want to talk about it?” Sam finally questioned at her door.

They entered her flat and DJ Busta Nut began to loudly chirp. Then the cat saw Sam and ran off. “He’s shy, but Zelda loves everyone… Except me, at least when other people are around,” Olive explained then cleared her throat. “My mom... “ The woman glanced back at Sam. Then she entered the kitchen and pulled out a sheet of deviled eggs. “It’s a barrel of monkeys, really. I’m pretty detached from everything up until she tries to contact me…”

Olive hesitated again. She was trying to play her problems off as nothing. It almost worked. She would pause, smoothing the silence by doing something else. Like she was distracted, but given the difficult topic, it was obvious what was on her mind.

“I’ve made my counselor’s cry when I told them the things my parents put me through. If you want to hear some things, I can tell you. It doesn’t bother me. But if it bothers _you_ then you need to tell me,” Olive said, now looking him in the eyes with a stoic expression.

He watched as she opened the envelopes. “I’ll let you know if it’s too much,” he promised and offered up the most serious face he could manage. 

Olive unfolded the letter from her mom and read it in silence. “Here,” she said and handed him the letter written in blue pen and semi-uniform cursive. “It’s an invitation for family day at the air base,” informed Olive in a flat tone as she unfolded letters from the other two envelopes.

“Why’s she got _Mom_ in all caps and _Oliver_ too?” Sam wondered before actually reading the whole note through.

“My father is divorced twice, married thrice. My brother and I called our first stepmom _Mom_ and it pissed her off. My brother calls our current stepmom _Mom_ as well, but she’s two months younger than him,” Olive explained coldly. "Oliver is in all caps, because that’s how she convinces herself she’s a good parent. _I’m not misgendering you! I’m not misnaming you! So I’ve done nothing wrong ever! See! Look I’m so good!_ She’s patting herself on the back.” Olive sighed heavily. She pulled open a drawer and retrieved a container of pushpins.

Sam nodded and went to read through the rest of the letter. Outside of what he asked about, it was a pretty standard letter if he ever saw one. His parents had both passed away. His father when he was a kid and his mom two years later.

“I know it probably looks like I’m just denying my parents their right to accept me, and I guess I am in a way. But… She let things happen to me. I, uhm… People did things to me and… She was right across the hall,” Olive was quiet. “I grew up eating _dog food_ for fuck’s sake. Dog! Food! And then she sold the dogs to the drunk down the road and he… He… He shot my brother’s dog. The son of a bitch killed him cus he was ornery. But-”

“Olive?” It was JARVIS coming through the intercom speakers. Tony had programmed the AI to take special care in reading Olive’s vitals. Currently, she was fighting off a panic attack and suffering heart palpitations. “Should I request Tony for company?”

Sam watched Olive roll her eyes. “No, just tell him Mother Dearest sent me an invitation to a family event at the air base,” Olive answered. Her blood was boiling and she was enraged. Yet, she somehow managed to still herself.

“Of course,” replied the AI.

“I know it’s not wise to give your medical records or anything to your boss, but Tony knows… He’s attended a session or two with me,” Olive admitted to Sam, showing exactly how much of her trust she placed in Tony’s hands. 

Sam shifted his weight to one foot. “So you two…?” He left the question open.

“No, he’s a very good friend though,” Olive replied, killing any question that she might have a thing for Tony. As if she forgot she hated deviled eggs, she popped one into her mouth and made a face. Still, the woman finished chewing it and swallowed it all down with a look of disgust on her face. “I’m not a specialist by any means, but given what I’ve been through I had some advice for him on how to deal with trauma,” explained Olive, carefully picking her words as she went along.

The two stayed in a sullen silence for some time. Neither of them ate the eggs on the counter or helped themselves to a drink from the fridge. They just stood there, completely unsure as to how to continue. 

“You know what’s sad?” Olive broke the silence with words barely above a whisper.

Sam raised a brow. “Outside of what you told me already?” He asked, taking a chance with a joke.

His mild teasing worked and Olive’s hardened expression cracked a tiny smirk. “You have a point,” she giggled quietly. “It’s sad, because despite all she’s done, I still want to show up for family day. I wanna believe that things are just peachy keen, fine and dandy.”

“I know that want,” muttered Sam. He shifted to his other foot and folded his arms across his chest. “It’s not sad per se, but normal… It’s only sad ‘cus we can’t have that normalcy,” Sam explained. Finally his eyes met hers and he offered a small, knowing smile.

Olive gave him a sympathetic smile. She huffed out a heavy breath and hopped off the counter irritating her knees yet again. “Clearly neither of us want these,” Olive said as she removed the eggs from the counter and put them back in the fridge. “You want a soda or anything?”

Sam leaned over her, making sure not to get too close for comfort. “Sprite’s fine,” he told her after scanning the interior of the fridge.

She reached in and grabbed a can for him and a can for herself. “So outside of being a bird and general falconry, Mr. Superhero said you’re a social worker,” Olive said, not really having a point outside of filling the empty air. She flipped on the living room lights and the TV, which was muted still, before leading him over to the sofa. Conversations in comfort were always easier than ones made while standing around like a bunch of oafs.

As soon as Sam joined Olive on the couch, Zelda hopped into his lap. He chuckled and scratched at her ears and her chin. “Yeah, wanted to follow in my parents’ footsteps, I suppose,” he confirmed. “Be the good you want to see in the world, that kind of thing.”

Olive nodded, familiar with the concept. 

“Stark said you didn’t want to be an Avenger.”

Her eyes darted out the windows that made up the walls. Outside urban streets and apartments spread across the landscape, split up by roads and parking lots filled to the brim with cars packed tight as sardines in a can. There was an art professor who used similar parking lots as subject material. Lombardo maybe?

“I’m too broken to save people.”

“You’ve already saved people,” Sam pointed out. It was good that Olive did not dump the idea into the trashcan outright. Her argument gave him an opening to coax her with the option. A little dance from pessimism to reality. “You already help us justify what we do and defend us from organizations that would do no good if we were forced to help them.”

Olive brought her gaze back to Sam. “That’s Stark Industries. Tony isn’t the entirety of the Avengers. SHIELD isn’t either.” After holding onto her soda can for so long, she finally opened the can and took a long sip. “I honestly don’t think I could justify half the shit SHIELD does if they ever got found out by the public,” Olive muttered.

He set his soda down on the coffee table. “If you don’t stand by something another avenger does, or even something the Avengers as a whole does, you don’t have to advocate it. Olive, being a part of the Avengers doesn’t mean you should put your morals aside,” Sam reasoned.

When he thought about it, his little speech reminded him of the movies and comic books. There was propaganda against Hydra, Nazis, and mutants almost everywhere when he was growing up. Not to mention the not so subtle black characters as antagonists in most TV shows. Even in the very movies he watched when he was young. Sam felt Olive would continue to use her words to paint a better future.

“Is it safe to assume I’m going to get shot at a lot more now?” Olive chuckled as she grinned over at Sam.

“How safe can Stark Tower be?” Sam replied.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a month or more ago and got caught up posting other stuff. Before I knew it I forgot to post more of Olive! For anyone not familiar with my Olive related content, she's literally a self-insert and I write her into the Marvel universe for some self-assurance and well-needed pep talks.


End file.
